


Closure

by CastelloFlare



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Aftermath, Angst, F/M, Season 5 MSF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastelloFlare/pseuds/CastelloFlare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even through heavy-lidded eyes, Daryl knew when he saw those blue orbs and blonde locks that this was a dream. A terrible idea of a joke life was playing at him. They were back in that cabin, half-empty bottles of moonshine clattered about them, silence hovering above them like a cloud.</p><p> </p><p>She was the first to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“Daryl.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

 

Even through heavy-lidded eyes, Daryl knew when he saw those blue orbs and blonde locks that this was a dream. A terrible idea of a joke life was playing at him. They were back in that cabin, half-empty bottles of moonshine clattered about them, silence hovering above them like a cloud.

 

She was the first to speak.

 

“Daryl.”

 

She sounded a little bit breathless, like her breath caught in the middle of saying his name; but upon hearing his name falling from her lips his own heart stopped for an instant. Only Beth could make his name sound like that one word anyone’s waiting to hear. 

 

She was smiling; a smile tinged with sadness, longing, even regret, and Daryl wondered for a moment just what kind of expression he himself was wearing. He averted his eyes, unsure of what to feel and what to say, so he resigned himself to picking on the loose threads on his pants.

 

Beth only watched him, knowing that he needed to process this first. She was shot in the head, just right in front of him. Moments ago, he just had his hand on her back, not knowing that was the last time he would get to feel her warmth on his fingers. They didn’t even exchange greetings, much less the chance to talk. Their last real conversation was in that funeral house, when he had proposed to try starting a new life there, to try trusting new people, because Beth had instilled in him some hope that there were still good people.

 

Daryl could feel her azure eyes upon him, taking in every bit of him but not pressuring him to say or do anything. The silence was deafening, but not at all awkward; Beth knew if Daryl wanted to talk that he would, and so she waited until he did. She knew that his indifference was only his shield, and he was actually socially awkward by nature, a point she found so endearing in the older man. She knew, and with a bit of pride, that she had opened a part of his book that rarely anyone ever saw, and if he would read it to her over and over again, she would listen and memorize every word of it by heart, just as how she had memorized him when they were together.

 

At last, ever so slowly, Daryl looked up and met her eyes. Then he saw that she was still wearing that dirty yellow polo shirt, her hair tied up with loose strands sticking out, her face and skin blotched here and there with dirt – but she had never looked so beautiful. His lips parted.

 

“… I looked for you.”

 

“And you found me.”

 

“…” Daryl could hear himself choking on his words. “… But I didn’t get to take you back.”

 

His words hung in the air and once again there was silence. Beth’s eyes bore into his, and this time he didn’t avert them. Their eyes spoke volumes of how they felt, and he wasn’t about to severe that connection. Deep in his mind, he was sure that he would find her and take her back. He was sure that he would never let her out of his sight again, and that he would continue to teach her how to track and other necessary skills for her to survive. He was going to watch over her, he was going to take care of her, he was going to make up for the lost time he didn’t have with her, he was –

 

“You’re doing that again.”

 

Daryl felt like he could get lost in those azure eyes. “Doin’ what?”

 

“Blaming yourself.”

 

It was true. Just like how it was after Sophia, Merle, and then after Herschel, Daryl had been a walking shell of anger, self-loathing, regret and misery. He had once again enclosed himself in his own barrier of isolation and despair, with demons from his past catching up to him, sinking him down even further. Nothing ever went right for him. And then Beth happened.

 

A light appeared at the end of the tunnel; loving arms encircled his waist from the back, supporting him when he broke down; he opened himself up to someone for the first time in a long while, without fear of being judged or rejected. That was Beth. That was all Beth.

 

And then, just when things were finally in their rightful place, when they finally found solace in that funeral house, she was gone. And he was correct again; nothing ever went right for him.

 

He remembered following the trail of the car, running all night, the threat of walkers unequalled to the urgency that was Beth’s kidnapping. He remembered feeling lost again, sitting down on the dirt, finding new people, then rejoining Rick, his real family, then Terminus, the church, the car. He remembered going through Atlanta with Carol, discovering Beth’s whereabouts, returning to Atlanta with a new team and a new plan. He remembered wanting to make a peaceful exchange, being on guard then seeing Beth and Carol only a few feet away; stars bursting behind his eyes as he sensed a feeling of relief, then Beth’s warm back, then a sudden shift to worry, then shock, anger, bitterness, and frustration all at once, and pulling the trigger.

 

Everything, still fresh on his mind. Beth could see it in his eyes.

 

“You've never let me down, Daryl. It wasn't your fault.”

 

“But why?” Daryl’s voice raised an octave. “You didn’t have to die. No one needed to die that day, Beth. Not you. ‘Specially not you.”

 

“Do you remember? It was also here when I said I probably wouldn’t live very long in this world… but then we were separated, and I knew I had to get out of that place. I knew I had to survive and I needed to find you, because somewhere deep inside me, I could… hear you.”

 

Daryl blinked once, twice. “What was I saying?”

 

“… my name.” Beth’s face flushed a deep red. “Just… my name.”

 

Daryl could feel his eyes and his cheeks burning up; if he was too old for these feelings, he didn’t care. It felt right like nothing else ever did. He wanted to reach for her, but he was scared that the moment he touched her, she would disappear into the back of his eyelids and he would wake up.

 

“You set me right, Beth. You should know that.” He half-whispered the last part. “If we had met under different circumstances, I…”

 

Beth shook her head. “You know that’s not true. If it wasn’t for this… apocalypse, or whatever, there’s no chance for us to have…”

 

She trailed off, just stared at him and then through him.

 

“I know this is selfish of me to say,” she started again, her eyes cast down and her voice wavering. “But a part of me is glad this all happened and you came to our farm… Rick, Lori, Carl… Andrea, Carol, Glenn… All of you. ‘Specially you.”

 

She looked up, blinking profusely, her lips folding inward, and her shoulders shook. “I said I don’t cry anymore, but…” And she smiled a woeful smile, tears spilling down her dirt-stained face. Her hands flew up to wipe them away and she looked more like a child, more fragile in her vulnerable state.

 

Daryl knew he didn’t believe in any greater force, heck he didn’t even understand why the Greenes held on so strongly to their faith. But he wanted something to hold on to. And he believed in Beth. He believed in being with her.

 

Then the scene changed; they were in the dining room of the funeral house, sitting beside each other with all that food on the table. This time they were close enough that he could hold her hand. He didn’t hesitate.

 

“In another life, maybe…” He took Beth’s hand on the table, and interlaced his rough, calloused fingers with her soft ones. They fit into each other so perfectly. “No, definitely. I will find you, Beth. I’ll make sure we meet again.”

 

Beth smiled through her pouring tears. She knew Daryl won't let her down; he has never let her down. “I’m sorry for always making you need to find me, Daryl.”

 

“Don’t be,” Daryl’s grip on her hand tightened. She felt warm in his grasp. “You found me first, and I’m not about to go back to that dark place again.”

 

She nodded. “I need you to promise me something.”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Don’t follow me too soon, okay?”

 

He nodded slowly. Then she leaned in and kissed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could write something happy, colorful, bright... something like Beth.  
> But I can't. I thought I poured it all out on 'Farewell, Sunshine', but it wasn't enough.  
> I had to write this and create some meaning for myself. I still can't think of any reason why she had to die. For character development? For the story to progress? How about HER character development? HER story to progress?  
> I guess that's what it meant to 'kill your darlings'.  
> I'm still bitter, but I'll be alright. We'll be alright.


End file.
